


Too Far Gone?

by PiratePlume



Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Also: ANGST, Other, also: pretend joey janela is still a bit hung up on penelope ford just for story sake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiratePlume/pseuds/PiratePlume
Summary: Reader and Joey Janela have been fighting since the Joey/Penelope/Kip feud has begun and the reader is upset with Joey for getting caught back up in Penelope's bs. One night after fighting and getting drunk, Joey makes a mistake that nearly costs him the relationship with the reader. Joey spends the evening desperately pouring his heart out, trying to help the reader see that he recognizes the error of his ways and wants to reconcile their relationship.
Relationships: Joey Janela/Reader
Kudos: 9





	Too Far Gone?

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a game I created on tumblr to challenge myself to write other wrestlers and to write situations I can't entirely control, as well as write fanfiction that is the wrestler x reader, where any gender or nongender should hopefully be able to insert themselves. The game is to have someone send me a wrestler and a number. I go into my music and hit shuffle as many times as the number and then write a fic based on the song chosen. For an added difficulty since I tend to be long-winded, I've decided I want to try not to exceed 1k words. These are meant to be short pieces. For Joey Janela I was given the number sixty-nine (nice) and the song that came up was One Drink by Picture This.

“Are you fucking kidding me Joey?” You had screamed as soon as the door opened, voice ragged from the tears you’d already been crying all night. He had looked up at you, surprised, bag still on his shoulder, halfway through the door to his apartment as you held up your phone with Penelope Ford’s text message showing.

MESSAGE: Hey bitch, you should probably do a better job keeping Joey happy before I share these with everyone and show them how fucking pathetic he is. xoxo

The next message was a screenshot of Joey, drunk messaging Penelope Ford on her twitter dm’s. The two of you had been on the rocks and you weren’t handling it well, and you’d fought that night for the third night in a row. You loved him so much, but you couldn’t keep doing this, not if he was going to turn into someone else whenever Penelope was messing with him. Not if he was going to get drunk and message her.

You’d blown past him, pushing your shoulder into his as you did, tears streaming down your face. “Babe! Babe wait!” He’d cried out as everything caught up, turning around and reaching out to you as you shook your head and got in your car. “Fuck you Joey!” 

He’d watched you drive away and you’d watched him get smaller and smaller in your rear view mirror, wiping the tears out of your eyes as you did.

* * * * *

“Fuck!” Joey hissed and reached to rub his fist hard over his chest where his heart ached. He’d never felt a pain like this. Like it shot through his center and radiated from his core, making everything feel heavy and sore. He’d glanced down at his phone, your number on the screen. You ignored the call - it was the sixth that night - and it went to voicemail. “Fuck,” he muttered again and lifted the phone, and heard your voice in the answering machine recording.

His eyes stung with tears and he reached with his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and trying to ignore them.

“Hey- hey, baby hey,” he slurred as the machine picked up, and started walking aimlessly around his living room, empty cans of white claw littered about and pictures of your adventures together scattered over the coffee table. He’d been drinking and looking at them, and was now absolutely _wasted_ and begging you with every inch of himself as he poured his heart out on the phone. “Please come back babe… I fucked up. I know I fucked up. Fuck…” He shook his head and closed his eyes tight, trying to fight the new onslaught of tears that wanted to rise. He was drunk and couldn’t grasp and control his emotions. “I’ve been scared, we’ve been fighting so much and I can’t figure out how to fix it, but I love you and I want to… fuck, babe… I want to make it right. I do? Okay? You have to believe me…Please just tell me what to do babe. Come back. Move in with me, let’s get married fuck… whatever it takes. I need you to tell me you’re not too far gone.”

The voicemail beeped and the call ended. He sighed and his arm slowly dropped, eyes not focused on the room in front of him but detached, the way his mind felt it was. He sighed.

The phone buzzed in his hand.

You were calling him back.

* * * * *

Heart in his throat, Joey’s fingers trembled as he clicked to answer your call. The phone was immediately pressed to his ear. “Baby?” He gasped, surprised you’d finally picked up, hopeful, and worried. “Baby please don’t hang up, just let me talk, okay?”

You’d been crying since you left him, curled up in bed and scrolling through your phone at all the pictures and memories of the two of you together. You could hear in his voice how drunk he was, and the pain overflowed, matched yours, and made it swell. New tears stung your eyes and flowed past your cheeks. You reached for one of the many crumpled tissues scattered around and struggled to clear the emotions from your throat just to be able to talk.

“Okay,” you squeaked, vocal chords tight. “Talk.”

He blew a sigh of relief that you were going to hear him out.

“I know I fucked up, okay? I know I’ve been fucking up. I know things have been… fuck…” Drunk, he was stumbling over his thoughts - too many at once - and doing all he could to reorganize them. You could hear his voice shake. He was crying. “I don’t know why I did that I seriously don’t. I could tell you I was… fuck I could tell you that’s fake because I swear it has to be, that isn’t something I’d want to do and-”

“Joey,” the pain crashed across your chest and nearly choked you as you remembered the way it’d felt, seeing that message across your screen. “Whether or not you wanted to isn’t the question. The fact is that you did it. Some part of you is still hung up on her and that…” your throat closed up as the tears swelled, and you barely managed to choke out your next words, “that fucking terrifies me. How long is it going to be before you leave me for her?”

“Babe, no. No, no, **_no_**. Fuck. Fuck! No!” Slurred, stumbling across his words, Joey pressed them hot and fast into the receiver. “I would never. I would fucking never. You’re my forever, baby. I swear _**you’re**_ my forever. Even if you leave me I-” he broke off, overcome once more with emotions and struggled to talk through them the same way you had. “I swear. I fucking swear it on everything. I won’t ever love someone the way I love you. I know I’m a fucking idiot and I do… fuck, I do stupid shit when I’m scared and we’ve been fighting so much and I…” he trailed off and you heard him exhale. “Babe.. I’ve just been so scared.”

Silence. It fell heavy and somehow too loud between you two, and you could hear the static on the phone, the steady breathing as he clutched it to his ear.

“I’ve been scared too.” You confessed finally, voice small and aching. He’d never lost himself like this over you before. Never poured his heart out like this. With how much you loved him, you’d never realized he felt it to this depth too. With the story-line coming up that involved him with his ex-girlfriend again, you’d gotten terrified he was buying back into it and going to leave you. Anxiety overruled, and the more you two fought, the more you’d been pushing each other away. Now there was this… a drunken, crying Joey begging you on the phone to never leave him. Promising you that he loved you more than he’d loved anyone else in his whole life.

“I’m sorry babe,” he said again, voice sad and tired. “I’m sorry I’m a fuck up.”

“You can’t message her anymore, you know that, right? You can’t play into her games anymore.”

“Of course I know that,” he said quick, and the incredulity in his tone wasn’t for you, but for the situation and how angry it made him that it’d happened at all. That he’d been that weak in that moment to cave to old, bad habits. That he’d played right into Penelope’s hand and given her further ammunition to try and destroy his life. That he’d been so fucking **weak**. 

“She’s just doing this to hurt you. To hurt us. That’s why she screenshot it and sent it to me.”

“I swear on my mother’s life. My _grandmother’s_ life. Babe. I won’t even look at her if that’s what it takes to make you believe me. They’ll tell me to cut a promo with her or some shit and I’ll fucking turn and look at a wall…”

You couldn’t help it. The imagery made you grin, and a small laugh bubbled up and slipped from your mouth. A breathy chuckle from him chased it, and it was touched with relief too, happy he’d at least made you laugh a little bit. That the tension and heaviness of the situation was gently leaving you two and instead of looking back, you both were poised to look forward.

The silence was gentler now.

“Babe?” He asked quietly after a few more moments of it passed.

“Hm?”

“Can I come over? I… I need to hold you right now. _I need you._ ”

You didn’t even stop to think if it was the right idea or not. Some of your friends might have said to say no, at least for the night. Let him sober up, let your heart rest… but what did they know, anyways? 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding even though he couldn’t see you, “get an uber and come over. I need you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> You were the best thing  
> And I was so invested  
> And I need you tell me  
> That you’re not too far gone  
> And I should’ve learned my lesson  
> When you heard that I was texting  
> Her and all my exes  
> And now you’re too far gone  
> And I’ll be here arms open  
> But you made it clear that you’re not coming  
> So I’ll need more than one drink to get over you  
> And I know it’s not the right way to cope but  
> I don’t know how to handle my emotions  
> One drink to get over you  
> And I know that I’ll regret it in the morning  
> It’s the bottle not my heart that I’ve been pouring  
> Can’t stop looking at the pictures  
> That we took when I was with you  
> Yeah, we had something special  
> But now you’re too far gone  
> And I’ll be here arms open  
> But you made it clear that you’re not coming


End file.
